


Rain

by kitanthony



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitanthony/pseuds/kitanthony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people feel sad when it rains, while others see it as a release of emotion. It could be said that Mycroft Holmes tends to hide from this under that brolly of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read my last story, you might want to. It will give you a little more background into the original character here, Prof. George Clay. You can find it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/653965  
> (I promise not every story I write about George talks about his death. Also, this hasn't been Brit-picked yet. Apologies for any awkward mistakes.)

Mycroft Holmes opened his umbrella before stepping outside.

His partner, George Clay, followed close behind, tsk-ing. "A little rain won't harm you, Myc," George said as they walked toward the parking lot.

Mycroft turned to him. "There's just no pleasing you, is there?" he asked with an amused look.

"What?"

"The second day I knew you, you scolded me for not having an umbrella. That's when I got this one, because you gave it to me. Now you're going back and saying I don't need to use it so much?"

"Hang on," George protested. "You didn't even own a brolly, then. That's what I disapproved of. Now, you carry that thing everywhere. I like a natural shower every once in a while." He held his hand out, watching the droplets cover his palm. "Rain makes me feel good."

"Really? I was led to believe the popular emotion associated with rainfall was sorrow."

"I was led to believe the popular emotion associated with you was cold indifference." George smiled sideways at him. "You can't rely on majority figures."

Mycroft smiled back. "Point taken. Still, I'd like to hear your reasoning for being pleased to be rained on."

George stopped next to his car, halfway under Mycroft's umbrella, and considered. "I used to be like most people, thinking the sky was crying when I was little. But after a while, I started to feel it isn't as sad as it seems. It's more like a release of emotion, after holding it all in for a long time, and with that release comes relief and contentment. That's when it became a good thing to me. For a few years, every time I was caught in the rain with someone, I would admit something I had been hiding before. But then I ran out of things to reveal about myself." He let out a laugh. "This is the first time in a long time."

Mycroft was silent for a moment before he replied, "Well, I'm glad you shared it with me. I'll remember that every time it rains, now."

"Whoops, sorry!" George said, not sounding very sorry.

"No, that's a good thing."

George just kept smiling at his partner. "So wait, is that really the same brolly I gave you?"

"It is."

"Wow! It must be so old now, I bought it when I was a teenager. You should get a new one."

"I refuse. This one is far too valuable to me."

"Oh, sentiment? I thought that was useless to you genius types."

"There are exceptions to every rule."

"Is that what I am?"

"My dear George, you smash the rules like a hammer to a mirror and burn the remains."

George laughed as he got in the driver's seat of his car.

\---

Mycroft stood over the headstone, the only living figure in the cemetery. He was as still as the statues that dotted the land, not moving a muscle until it started drizzling. He lifted the arm his umbrella was hanging on, then put it back down. He let the drops fall on him as he remembered rather recently when George explained his theory about rain. A release of emotion. What an apt description. Mycroft stared at the ground, under which was buried his soul mate. He didn't release his emotions through tears, but through words. He spoke to his late partner in a low voice, telling George how much he missed him, smiling as he recounted some of their best memories together, and apologizing for their worst. At the end, he told his friend that he would never return to his grave. He refused to ever again mourn beside a mound of dirt that held nothing for him to come back to. He would go to the places that meant something to them, and remember him through little things like the smell of mint; the things that were a part of George.

Mycroft was determined this would be the last time he let anything remotely close to a release of emotion show itself, as well as the last time he allowed the rain to touch him again.


End file.
